The Exit
by Ikonopeiston
Summary: The second year at Training Camp has ended and Nooj is preparing for his final year before he joins the Crusaders. This is the fourth and final part of this story. It is also the last of the stories telling of the youth of the boy who would become Nooj
1. Chapter 1

The recognizable characters and places in this story are the property of Square/Enix. The thoughts, emotions, and all other aspects are my property. This will be divided into several sections of which this is, obviously, the first.

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**The Exit**

Nooj would soon be seventeen years old. By now, he was as tall as he would ever be, towering above his classmates. In the past few months, his chest had begun to broaden and it was evident to the knowledgeable eye he would be a big man, not heavily muscled but tall and strong with a body which would catch the attention of those who appreciated the aesthetics of anatomy. His hair had grown long and was caught up in formal braids with the curtain of a loose sidelock defining the right side of his face from brow to chin. At last, his face had become large enough to accommodate his features and he was handsome for the first time in his life, with a narrow high-bridged nose, wide dark eyes under level brows and a full, sensual mouth. The female cadets looked at him with flirtatious slantwise glances, wishing he were not already paired. Some of the males were forced to swallow their saliva as well.

This would be the last year of training before he would take his oath and become a Crusader. The past two years had been difficult and sometimes confusing, not because of the courses of study but from the problems he encountered adapting to the expectations of those about him. Nooj was a secretive, private person who did not willingly share his thoughts, let alone his dreams with others. It would be hard to imagine anyone less suitable for the discipline of a military school, yet he had not only managed to survive the first two thirds of the required schedule but had become the unchallenged leader of his class, the Cadet-Captain. This was due to his talent in the arts of war not his conviviality. Most of the students still at the Calm Lands Training Camp admired him to the point of idolatry for his feats of courage and endurance while his instructors took great pride in his mastery of the academic studies as well as for his formidable self-control.

One proof of his influence on his contemporaries had been the rash of minor to moderate misbehavior toward the end of the last term, such actions being designed to earn their perpetrator a flogging from the Head Trainer. Nooj had made an annual visit to the flogging horse in the Armory and the scarlet marks on his back had become a symbol of stoic unyielding pride which had prompted the envious to try for their own badges of honor. When the Commandant, Jounne, had realized what was causing the outbreak of offenses, he had banned thrashing in favor of the more shameful and less desirable punishment of ridicule. Those who behaved badly were required to wear pink uniforms with lace cuffs and jabots. And their swords were replaced with feather dusters. Discipline quickly returned to the camp. Thus the pattern of scars on Nooj's back remained unique. He was quietly pleased as he did not welcome competition in that area.

Another point of distinction for the young man was his companion animal, Nepetu. In his first year at the Camp, he had killed a pair of Queen Coeurls, orphaning their kit. Out of a sense of obligation and because he recognized in the animal his counterpart, he had tamed it and bound it to him with the unbreakable threads of loyalty, sleeping with it and feeding it from his own hands. It was his constant shadow and visiting officers often remarked on the spectacle of the tall lean youth and the now fully grown cat gracefully prowling the parade grounds in perfect synchronization.

Then there was Kaith. In a world in which life was short and sudden death always a likelihood, maturity was rapid. Most of the cadets had formed liaisons by the end of their second year and, for many, these connections persisted after training was complete. A surprisingly large number of infant Spirans were born to couples both of whom were full-time soldiers. Kaith and Nooj had been lovers since the beginning of their second year at the camp. He had permitted her more deeply into his history and personal life than any other human and she valued his confidence. As his second-in-command, she held a special place amongst the cadet corps and while many envied her few dared begrudge her the position at the side and in the bed of the leader.

Here at the start of the third and last year with his affairs nicely in order, Nooj stood poised to become a Warrior of great potential. He had chosen to set his sights on the Crusaders in order to avoid the more unpalatable duties of an officer in the regular Army, those which dealt with great masses of troops and the plotting of intricate strategy. The Crusaders were a more agile force, rewarding individual initiative and daring. Nooj knew he would be able to lose his life more quickly there and with a greater chance of losing it to Sin.

For Nooj was a Deathseeker, even though he was not yet branded with the term. He was firmly determined to die as soon as he could find a circumstance which would do honor to his family name and traditions. It was not an idle choice nor one made from despair or a false sense of bravado. It was one formed in the wake of personal tragedy but maintained rationally from then on. He knew he owed the Universe his death and intended in all honor to pay the debt. It was for this reason he had stuck though the problems at the Camp and had clawed his way toward his goal.

Only two individuals knew of his intention to die. He had told Kaith because in his loneliness he needed a confidant. Jounne had inveigled the truth out of him by catching him at his lowest point the previous year and offering reassurance when he most required it. There was no reason for any other to be trusted with the knowledge and so Nooj was able to go about completing his training as a Warrior with the comforting knowledge that he could escape from life in the background. It was always there but not always at the fore of his mind. It was like the sun or the coeurl, a reliable presence.

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The last furlough was beginning and the final year of training would start at ots end. Nooj had chosen to stay in the Calm Lands rather than return to his home island of Kilika. He had no close family remaining there, only an uncle – his mother's brother – who had little interest in fostering a difficult boy and who had packed him off to the mainland as quickly as possible. There were, of course, certain elders still living on Kilika who remembered a precocious lad and his incessant questions, but they also remembered unnerving stories about his mad exploits and the almost legendary tales of how he influenced the other children of the village to take risks beyond the ordinary and led them on ventures into danger. No, all in all, it was better for him to remain in a place where he could continue his explorations and studies at his own pace without the hindrance of overly conservative attitudes.

Kaith stayed part of the time at the nearly deserted camp with him both because she had no wish to go back to the social life which her own family would press upon her in their attempts to divert her from making a career as a Warrior and also because she needed to repair her relationship with her lover. They had been torn apart by a temporary madness which had seized him during the last year and his innate shyness was making the restoration more difficult than it had to be.

"Have I ever told you how much I like to look at you?" She traced the long muscles down his thigh, paused to tickle him in the sensitive area behind the knee and continued her journey of exploration to his lower leg, playfully kneading the bunched tissue at the calf before ending with a nip at his ankle. "You have the most gorgeous body of any male I've ever seen."

"And how many males have you seen as completely as you've seen me?" He queried with a mocking smile.

She looked up darkly from under her brows, "Oh, you might be surprised."

This time he laughed out loud. "Would I, you little vixen? Shall I make you pay for your infidelity?"

"Please sir, may I have some more?" She made a moue and, unable to contain herself, began laughing along with him. He stretched out his arm and caught her by the hair, pulling her head up to his waist.

"Feast, damsel!" He ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Take what is given you."

She grinned impishly against his belly, "That's beautiful, too. There is nothing about you ..." Then catching a certain glint in his eye, she hastily composed her features into dramatically subservient lines. "Yes, my lord," she whispered and bent to her task.

Nooj lay back, gently tracing the shells of her ears and the arch of her skull. He loved to feel the shape of her bones under the skin. When he traced them, he could imagine her a lithe figure of ivory, surrounded by a veiling of tissue, moving like a spirit, glowing with vitality. At times like this, he thought of the two of them as one being, fusing together into a unique entity beyond the commonplace. He was transported past himself into a realm of rapture which consumed him – if only for a time.

When he drew her up to his lips, he kissed her with an almost painful fervor. "Yevon! I've missed you.!" His arms tightened until she could hardly breathe.

"You say that every time now. I'm not going anywhere."

"I need to keep reminding myself so I won't do that again." He gently bit her ear lobe. "I'm always afraid I won't be able to ..."

"One time and you're worried. One time. I notice you're not having that problem today." She laughed confidently, reaching to touch him.

"So you did notice. I wasn't sure how to get your attention." With a rocking motion, he rolled atop her, pinning her to the moss. "Now, prepare to meet your doom."

In a shrill falsetto, she squealed, "Oh, spare me, my lord. You can't mean to ravish a maiden."

"You think not? You have a lot to learn about how the world works." He drove his knee between her thighs and pressed his advantage. "Aha, so you have remembered, have you?"

With a contented sigh, she wrapped him in her arms and twining her legs around his hips gathered him to her.

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"I'm glad you didn't lose all patience with me and keep away," Nooj ran an affectionate finger down her nose and over her lips. "You had every right to abandon me after the way I behaved." He continued the light stroking across her collar bone and around the swell of her breasts. When he reached her nipples, she arched her back to encourage him.

They were lying relaxed, their heads pillowed on the flank of the coeurl cat which had become tolerant of the follies of his humans. The air was soft so they were in no hurry to resume their garments, instead opting to enjoy the feel of the gentle breeze drying the sweat on their skin.

"You are an idiot, Nooj. I would never have left you. You just went a little crazy for a little while. I understood." Kaith turned slightly and returned his caress. "Um, I do love to look at you."

"So you mentioned earlier." He replied with a smile. "And I find you a pleasant sight, as well." By now, his hand was resting on the curve of her hip, creating a spot of warmth which radiated throughout the area. "From the first time I saw you ..."

"Hah! You didn't want me as your second." She tweaked him in a sensitive place. "You didn't think I was good enough." Her fingers poised for another onslaught.

"Stop before you start something." He caught her wrist and held it between them. "I'm not that good at resisting temptation."

Kaith closed her eyes, trying to recreate the image of her lover behind her closed lids. She had decided she must memorize the way he looked so that she would have it when he was gone. This time of leisure between sessions would pass quickly; she must go and spend a few weeks with her family, then the final year of training would begin. At the end of that, they would be separated to their assigned units and she knew, deep within her, she would never see him again. He would find his Death and that would be the end of it. Oh, she might catch a glimpse of him on the FarPlane but that was all. So she needed to burn into her mind the way he was now, the grace and elegance of his body, the long well shaped limbs, the ease of his stride, all the things which made him who he was and would vanish when he dissolved into pyreflies. At the thought, tears stung behind her lashes and leaked to trickle down her face.

With a feeling of both surprise and resignation, Nooj saw the moisture on her cheeks. He wiped it away with his thumb. "Don't do that, Kaith. There's no point in it."

She clung to him in desperate need. "I don't want to go home. I want to stay with you as long as I can." She hiccoughed pathetically.

He rubbed her shoulders, "It's just a couple of weeks. You owe them that. Then we can be together the whole year. You'll see. I'll sneak you into my bed in the barracks. Did you forget? This year I get a private room because I'm the Senior Cadet Captain."

She sniffled and managed a grin. "Is the bed big enough for you, me and Nepetu all?"

"We'll work something out." He kissed her and moved to embrace her again.

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Nooj had moved though his first two years of training with an almost imperial indifference to his fellow students. Unlike most of the others, he had never felt the need to surround himself with supporters and sycophants. As a result he had not made friends amongst the cadets, being satisfied to be respected and admired but not loved. Only Kaith had been permitted to pierce the wall he maintained between himself and the mass of other persons. So when she had left the camp to visit her family during the furlough, he was alone save for the great cat which paced always at his side.

There were a few other students who had either stayed or come back early for one reason or another but they were hesitant to approach the forbidding figure of the Senior Captain, fearing his scornful eye and caustic tongue. Soon enough some of them would be serving either with or under him and they were willing to wait for the pleasure.

Nooj stalked the wide meadows and plains of the Calm Lands without consideration of the dangers involved. He was, rightly, convinced the presence of Nepetu would be sufficient to deter most fiend attacks and the two of them together could dispatch any creature stupid enough to launch itself at them. Although the coeurl had never developed the devastating Kill technique of others of its kind, it was heavy and fierce enough to be more than a match for any feral animal they were likely to meet.

The two of them frequently wandered great distances from the camp and slept rough on the open range under the two moons and the uncountable stars, wrapped only in the warm night air. It was during such times that Nooj was able to begin to formulate his expectations for his future. He did not expect it to be long.

So it was he sat, his arms loosely folded on his bent knees, Nepetu sprawled at his side, and gazed with unseeing eyes across the gaping chasm toward the mountains in the distance.

For more than a decade, he had known with absolute certainty that Death awaited him and at no great remove. It was only a matter of finding and greeting the icon of his completion. Until lately, he had more than half believed he was already dead. Now he was convinced he lived but found himself ever more eager to rectify that condition. It seemed to him that as he grew older, the image of Death grew more seductive, more desirable but still kept the background buzz of unreality, like a woman who was surpassingly provocative but quite out of reach.

He knew he would enter the Crusaders as a junior officer, given his rank and commendations during his three years at training camp. That did not exactly suit his plans. He would have preferred going in as an ordinary soldier and being able to chart his own course, to a degree, without having the responsibility of others on his head.

He sighed deeply. Since the catastrophic event of this first year, he had been uncomfortable issuing orders although his duties required him to do so. Still, it would be far better if he could find his place to die without the nuisance of preventing others from accompanying him into Nothingness.

He knew the death he sought must be limned by honor. He would not accept it on any other terms. And he was somehow certain he would be able to choose. His relationship with Death remained a peculiar one, in which desire and dread embraced in an uncomfortable fellowship.

So he sat on the edge of the Calm Lands, preparing himself for what would come. He did not believe in the FarPlane and anticipated nothing after he had ceased to breathe. The comfort he would find lay in Nothingness, on the other side of the door which passed through Sin.

He laid his head on his arms and let himself drift into the darkness which was a poor simulacrum of that deeper darkness for which he knew himself to be destined.

Sep 24, 20055181299


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

"How did your visit home go?" Nooj asked the girl as she unpacked her bag and stowed the contents in the foot locker and rickety standing closet.

"Well enough. They still can't see me being a soldier, much less a Warrior." She closed the closet door and locked it with a firm click. "They think this is some sort of romantic adventure I'll grow out of."

"And it isn't?" He swept a long arm around her, pulling her to his side. "You aren't tired of playing soldier yet?"

Kaith laughed, her bad temper forgotten in her pleasure at being with her lover again after three weeks' separation. "I'm not tired of playing doctor anyway."

Nooj sat down on the bunk and settled her on his knee. "So, ready for our last year, are you? Still planning to go into the regular army. Are you sure you won't join me in the Crusaders?"

"No, I think I will have a better chance in the army. They promote faster and the sooner I can get to the top echelon, the sooner my family will let up on their complaining. Besides, I have not the slightest desire to watch you indulge in shenanigans whose only purpose is to get yourself killed." She nipped lightly at his neck with her teeth, making him jump back.

He stood up, unceremoniously dumping her on the bed. "Do you have to start up with that as soon as you get back? My life is my own and I'll do what I want with it." His rigid back warned her to silence. "I have to report to Jounne; see you later."

In truth, his appointment with the Commandant was not for another half-hour but he felt the need to get out of the barracks and away from her presence. He had anticipated her return for days and now the discovery that she was going to keep forcing the issue of his obsession was disappointing to him. He walked to the sectioned-off corner of the large room and opened the door to his own room, not caring that Kaith could observe his movements and know he had left her for no good reason.

The private room afforded to the Senior Cadet Captain was small but sufficient for the few possessions Nooj owned. The important thing was that it was private. For two years, he had lived publicly in the barracks of the lower divisions, guarding his personal life with unceasing vigilance and a firm refusal to participate in the communal sharing of the others.

With an impatient gesture, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Taking a freshly starched one from the closet, he carefully closed the snaps and smoothed the collar before affixing the various decorations he to which he was entitled and folding back the cuffs in the prescribed manner. Then with a rough scratch behind the ears of the coeurl lying on the bed and a quick dusting of his highly polished boots, he left the room, walking with a military swagger he had spent the leave time practicing.

He was almost as irritated with himself as with Kaith. For some reason he was touchy these days, taking offense at the slightest reason. The younger cadets were, quite frankly, terrified of him and scurried like insects at his approach. Even those of his own age avoided him if possible. He was known to be dangerous and intolerant of stupidity and, since it was difficult just now to know what he considered stupid, it was considered to be the better part of wisdom to take flight whenever he loomed in the vicinity.

The parade ground was vacant, quite by chance. Most of the students were inside arranging their scant belongings in the proper places. The infamous Armory, site of the flogging horse, squatted with apparent innocence across the way on a diagonal with the classrooms. Between and behind them lay the building which housed the offices of the senior staff and most particularly the large dim lair of Commandant Jounne.

Nooj checked the clock on the face of the Armory. He still had fifteen minutes, time enough for an errand. With a quick turn, he made his way to the classroom building and the library inside. The book he had marked in his memory was where he had last seen it and he opened it to the section he had expected to find. As he scanned the pages, he became aware of a strange disconnection at one point. Closer observation proved that at least two pages had been removed, cut out closely to the spine of the book. With a thoughtful frown on his brow, Nooj closed the Manual of the Crusader Corps and returned it to its place on the shelf before making his way to his appointment with his Commandant.

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"At ease." The Commandant looked at the tall youth before him with rueful affection. In his nearly twenty years of commanding this school, he had never encountered a cadet more difficult to control or one with more raw talent.

Nooj relaxed slightly, spreading his feet a few inches apart and clasping his hands at his waist. In that pose he waited with grave expectation for the reason he had been summoned to his superior's office.

"Oh, sit down," Jounne drawled, pointing at the chair in front of the desk. "We need to have a little talk and I don't want you looming there like a post."

Nooj seated himself on the extreme edge of the wooden chair, his back as straight as it had been when he was at full attention. "Yessir. Thank you, sir."

Jounne sighed to himself. Either the chap was in full Warrior mode or in full Rebel mode. There never seemed to be an in-between for Nooj. "You are, of course, Senior Cadet Captain this year which means you are the immediate superior officer for all the students in this camp. You do understand this?" He pause for an answer.

"Yessir. I understand."

"Good, because I am initiating a few changes which will affect you and the relationship of your office to the camp as a whole. You will not only be the conduit by which my orders are conveyed to the cadets, you will be taking a direct hand in their training yourself. I shall require and expect you to plan and lead various missions during the year as well as continue your own specialized training in preparation for entering the Crusaders. Understood?"

"Yessir." There was no mistaking the note of dismay in the voice of the lad before the desk.

Ignoring the tone, Jounne continued, "I shall want you to plan and lead an appropriate training mission for each of the classes, starting with the first year group. You will need to give me an outline of each activity for my approval one week before you intend to perform the exercise. I shall expect the first such outline on my desk before the last week of this month. Understood?"

"Yessir. That means the first-years should be taken care of during the first week of next month? Are there any restrictions as to difficulty or danger?" Nooj sat even straighter in the hard chair.

Jounne smiled, a little cruelly. "I would prefer you not kill too many of the cadets. You may divide them into appropriately sized teams and assign the command of the teams to the class leaders you find fit. If you propose anything too far out, I'll let you know. Any further questions?"

"Not now sir. May I use the Manuals in the library?"

"Of course, use what resources you need. This is a test for you as well as the others, you know?"

"Yessir. I thought as much." Nooj stood and saluted. "I shall try to avoid a flogging this time."

Jounne threw back his head and laughed. Who would have suspected Nooj of having a sense of humor?

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That night Nooj dreamed. Dreaming was rare for him; usually he fell asleep quickly and deeply or lay awake pondering various problems. But this night, he dreamed. He was on a wide battlefield under lowering skies, alone except for the enemies which approached him one by one. He stood, sweat stinging his eyes, his muscles aching from exertion and swung a broadsword without ceasing, eviscerating each fiend as it stepped before him. His hair had come undone from its braids and blew across his face, obscuring his vision from time to time. His hands were slippery sticky with blood or whatever fluids served the creatures. He was tired and gradually became aware that he was being whittled away by the incessant attacks of the enemy. One foot was gone, then the left forearm, then the left arm entirely and finally the left leg. The sword was too heavy for one hand, so he dropped it and, losing his balance, fell heavily and was at once covered with a mass of tearing beasts. He woke with a scream in his throat and hoped he had not let it escape into the silence of the sleeping barracks. His heart was pounding so hard it shook his body and the bed. Nepetu, disturbed by the movement, stretched and licked his face, completing his transition to awareness.

What had it meant? He sat up and rested his feet on the floor, taking an inventory of his parts to make sure it had been only a dream. He had never feared death in battle; that was his goal. Why had he dreamt this? When he closed his lids, he could see once again that ominously lighted stage upon which he stood, solitary, fighting the forces of what? The shapes of the creatures he slew were unclear. They fell and were replaced by others and he could not make out the details of what he was killing with such machine-like precision, knowing only that they must be killed.

With a shudder which made him pull his quilt around his bare shoulders, he ran his right hand down his left arm and leg, assuring himself they were still there. He felt a slight numbness on that side of his body and thought it was from the pressure of a bad sleeping position. To prove it to himself, he stood and took a few steps, teetering and limping until complete feeling returned to the affected limbs and he stood securely beside the bed. Only a dream. That was all it was, only a dream. But he was disturbed nonetheless; with little experience in dreams, he was uncertain of their import.

Unable to compose himself to sleep again, he dressed and crept silently from his room, Nepetu at his side. The two made their way to the door leading outside and slipped through into the cool freshness of the night. Moving like phantasms through the darkness, the young man and the great cat emerged on the open plain and raced across the grass, heedless of the uneven ground until they both collapsed, breathless and exhausted near the edge of the steep chasm.

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Jounne picked up the sheaf of papers he had found placed in the exact center of his blotter that morning when he first entered his office. The lad was meticulous to a fault. Leave it to Nooj to get the outline of his project in a full week before it was required. With a twisted grin, the Commandant settled down to read.

Some little time later, he laid down the material with a sigh. He could find no obvious fault in the proposal. Nooj expressed his intention of dividing the entering class of cadets into four groups of twelve and assigning each group a peer leader. There were several outstanding candidates for the position including the Cadet Captain for the fourteen-year-olds. These four leaders would be directed to lead their particular contingent across the Calm Lands to one of four destinations to be drawn by lot. There they would undertake to make a careful survey of their surroundings and bring back detailed maps and a census of the number and type of fiend to be found in each area. No battles with the indigenous fauna were to be undertaken unless absolutely necessary and the leader of any group which engaged in such fighting would be required to justify the action to Nooj in person. It was a well-though out and appropriate exercise for beginning cadets and was not dangerous on the face of it. That was what bothered Jounne. Was Nooj becoming too cautious? Had the fear of losing any of his subordinates made him basically unfit for leadership. Men and women die in wars and Warriors must deal with it.

The Commandant leaned back in his chair. Nooj was aiming for the Crusaders, who were trained to fight in small groups or alone. Was this why? Jounne knew the youth wanted to die, was determined to die but was he also determined to throw away not only his life but the talent he had shown to inspire emulation and to draw followers? Suddenly straightening up, he summoned his aide and sent a message.

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When Nooj stood before his superior officer's gaze, he recognized this was no simple meeting in which he would be requested to amplify some portions of his plan. Jounne only looked at him that way when he had something painfully personal to discuss.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable, lad. We need to have a little talk."

Nooj obeyed, sliding to the back of the straight chair and permitting his shoulders to touch the support. He rested his arms on the arms of the chair and lightly folded his hands, composing his features into a mask of pleasant curiosity.

There was a space of silence then both began speaking together. Nooj immediately stopped out of deference to his elder.

"This project of yours is an excellent one. I have approved it." Jounne slid the folder of papers across the desk. "There is only one problem and it does not directly impact upon the project itself."

The youth did not move, only looked more benignly curious than ever, one eyebrow arching up toward his hairline. "Sir?"

The Commandant leaned back and steepled his fingers, hesitant to begin. "Are you still of the persuasion you were at the end of the last term? About the ..."

"I am still a Deathseeker, sir. I still have every intention of fighting Sin until I am slain. Yessir." The voice was uninflected, convincing in its flatness.

"Why are you denying the cadets you are planning missions for the same opportunity you demand for yourself? Why is this project so damned safe?" He tapped the folder.

"You asked me not to kill any more cadets, sir. I felt I had used my allotment of them for my time here." Nooj was blandly respectful.

"One girl died because of your carelessness. That's not exactly a massacre. You know, better than most, that the risk of death is always present even during training. So why have you virtually eliminated it in this exercise? You aren't even letting them hunt the smaller fiends and get some practice. The sole purpose of this camp is to turn out Warriors; Warriors must know that they face death in their profession. We do cadets no favor by pretending otherwise. Yet, you have gone to considerable pains to eliminate any danger for this class. Such scrupulous care does not speak well of your skill as a leader. I know you can inspire troops to courage yet here you do not. Explain to me your reasoning." Jounne shut his mouth with an audible snap.

"I have only this explanation, sir. I structured the exercise to utilize the things these cadets had been taught so that they might practice their skills. They have not yet been given any extensive training in weaponry nor have they been told the most efficient methods of killing the fiends to be found in this area. I did not want to test them on techniques they are not yet expected to be proficient in. If you like, I can outline a more challenging course for them later in the year." Nooj had slid to the edge of his chair and was sitting at attention.

"One thing I will give you, my boy. You have a clever tongue. If you talked more you would probably be commanding this camp instead of me. I don't entirely believe you. I'm not sure you believe yourself but your argument is sound and I'll let it pass this time. I may give you another go at this lot. In the meantime, I am eager to see what you plan for the second-year class." He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. "You do understand that even in the Crusaders, you will be expected to take the lead sometimes and order troops into battle, even into ones where they may get killed?" He permitted himself a caustic twist of the lips. "You cannot expect to evade responsibility for others' lives forever."

"Yessir. I understand that. However, I do not feel my primary skills lie in the area of leadership. I feel I will do better working alone." Nooj was very pale and his fists were clenched.

"Do you now? I wonder. The other students here seem eager enough to flock to your banner."

"For the wrong reasons, sir. I have spend a long time thinking about this. I feel quite certain in my assessments."

"You look and sound much older than you are. I think that has something to do with the way the others react to you." Jounne mused almost to himself. "Well, carry on. Are your own studies going well? I have heard no complaints from your instructors."

Nooj nodded, relieved at the change of subject. "Yessir. I am working hard and learning as much as I can. Thank you sir." He scooped up the outline and tucked it under his arm as he stood, taking the Commandant's words as a dismissal.

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He was just preparing for bed when he heard a little tap at the door of his room. "Yes." He supposed it to be one of the cadets with a problem.

Kaith opened the door and slipped inside. "Nooj, it's been two weeks. Let's not quarrel anymore. I won't talk about things I shouldn't. I'm lonely."

He turned and held out his arms. "So am I. Shall we see if this bunk can accommodate three?"

Sep 30, 20055181299


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

The exercise involving the most junior class had gone well. The four groups had been successfully led to their designated targets and had completed the maps and fiend census without incident. Only one of the groups had been forced to take on a fiend in battle and that was a minor matter which ended with no one hurt or even slightly damaged and one small very ugly creature brought back as a trophy to great boasting and celebration by the group involved.

"It worked out for you. That must make you happy." Jounne looked at the young man standing before him. The Senior Cadet Captain did not look particularly delighted with the success of his plan. "But, then again, you didn't leave all that much to chance."

"Do you want me to risk the lives of the students, sir? If so, I can easily send the next class out unarmed to prowl the lower-levels of the cave under the bridge." Nooj snarled, his fists clenched at his side. "It had not occurred to me our main task here was to decimate the candidates."

"Don't get sarcastic with me, lad. I can make your life here much less comfortable. I could remove the door from your room." The officer looked at the youth sharply, hoping to catch him off guard. He succeeded; Nooj had gone pale before a flush spread over his cheekbones.

"Did you think nobody would notice Kaith is not in her bed most nights and that there is only one other place she could be?" The Commandant smiled his most unpleasant smile. "Come, my boy, we're not stupid here. Everybody on this base knows you're sleeping with your adjutant. And nobody much cares as long as you're reasonably discreet and follow the orders you're given. At your age, some natural impulses take precedent."

Visibly regaining control of himself, the Cadet Captain fixed his gaze on the wall behind the desk. "Yessir. I shall have the outline for the second class exercise before you by the end of the week. May I go now?" He was not sure how much longer he would be able to maintain his respectful attitude.

"Not quite yet. I want to make absolutely sure you understand what you are here to learn. You are being prepared for a leader's position. When you graduate, you will be given a commission and command over some number of recruits. You must be willing to weigh the risk to your troops against the value of their mission. You are not expected to waste manpower but you are not expected to be timid in the use of it. You, of all people in this camp, ought to be able to comprehend that and I have brought this to your attention before. Do not make me do so again. Now, design the test for the next group and make sure it is more inventive than the one for the last. Dismissed." Watching the rigid back pass through the door, Jounne nodded with satisfaction. The experiment they had begun at the start of the lad's second year was bearing fruit. He was becoming more tractable, less foolishly defiant. The Crusaders would have a good candidate when he graduated from training. And that little flick of the whip could only do him good.

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"You are not to come to my room anymore." He stated the order flatly, without emphasis. "It is becoming a scandal. We will keep our trysts in the open as we did before."

Kaith was outraged by his attitude. "Since when have you given a damn for scandal? I thought you were the one who always went his own way and ignored what anybody else said."

"I prefer not the be the subject of rude jokes. It does not help morale in the corps when the Senior Captain is seen breaking the rules."

"You know there are no rules forbidding third year cadets from ..."

"I am different. I must not be seen as having weaknesses." He would not look at her, his eyes fixed on the surface of his desk. "I have to be above ..."

"Above human. What are you anyway? You think you can't be human for a little while?" Kaith fought back tears of anger.

"No. I can't. You know what's going to happen and why. I cannot permit myself distractions." He finally looked up and she was astonished by the bleakness in the dark eyes. They were like fathomless pits leading to nowhere. "I am Deathseeker and that is the totality of me. You may choose to lie with me but there can be nothing more. I am set aside and marked."

She felt suddenly breathless as though he had hit her hard just below her diaphragm. Without volition, she bent forward as though to protect herself from another blow. When she was able to focus on him, she saw he was still expressionless, his eyes still blank. The face she had so often drawn with her fingertips had become alien to her; she did not recognize him.

Nooj was perfectly aware of the effect of his words. He had selected them deliberately before he had initiated the interview. After his session with Jounne, he had realized his error. He had permitted Kaith to come too close. Never in his life had he accepted the presence of an intimate. Knowing that he was on a direct and early course for death, he had, with purpose, opted to stay aloof from the entanglements of personal relationships. His withdrawal had nothing to do with a desire to spare the emotions of those who might grow to care for him and everything to do with keeping his own vision fixed on the one purpose in his life. He had been left alive in order to die and nothing must interfere with that destiny. He was sorry for causing unhappiness to Kaith but it was for her own good. If anything else, he was impatient with her for not seeing as clearly as did he. They could still take pleasure together – they were both still young and hot-blooded. There need be no change in that. What must change was the perception she had become his weakness. If Jounne could threaten to punish him by depriving him of the girl, then he must punish himself first and the girl must be sacrificed. He could not afford to give anyone a handle to manipulate him.

"Kaith, things are becoming unduly complicated. My responsibilities have increased and I must be a model to those who are under my command. I can no longer flout the rules as I did when I was more junior. It seems one of us must abandon our pride in this matter. I can only hope you will be generous enough to let it be you. Otherwise, we must make a clean break now." He braced his knuckles on the desk and leaned forward slightly, waiting.

She was too confused and dizzy to answer at first. Nothing had prepared her for this. After the misunderstandings of the past months, she had thought things were mended between them and that they might spend this final year of training in relative peace. Finally, the meaning of his statement came clear to her. "No, whatever you say. I don't want to leave you and I can't bear for you to leave me. Whatever you think we should do." There was a stammer in her voice as her tongue moved clumsily behind her teeth. She stretched her hand toward his chest but did not dare to touch him. She wondered, frantically, if he would ever let her really touch him again or if he would simply use her for the release of his tensions and the satisfying of his needs.

With a calculated gesture, he caught her wrist and drew her around the desk to him. His arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand tipped up her face. He looked at her until she closed her own eyes, then he bent to her lips and kissed her with a nearly contemptuous brutality, forcing his tongue into her mouth and taking possession as if it were his right. She responded at once, pulling his head still closer and yielding to his invasion, welcoming the onslaught. His hands roamed and explored her body, disarranging her clothes to find access to her breasts and her thighs. She moaned and melted against him.

Then there was nothing between them and he was inside her, taking her with no consideration for her readiness. He drove into her strongly, arousing her with his ferocity, his mouth still locked with hers and his hand squeezing her nipple. She was immediately moist, accepting her own plundering as she fell back across the hard surface of the desk. Gripping his hips with her knees, she met him passion for passion until they both gasped out their fulfillment and lay spent.

Nooj straightened up and began buttoning his breeches. His lips were closed into a narrow line and he seemed uncertain. "I should not have done that. It will not happen again."

Kaith twisted to recover her garments and try to put herself to rights. "I wanted it. I wanted you to do it. Don't say that. I need you."

He smiled sourly. "And it is obvious I need you as well. But I should have asked first."

"No, you don't have to ask. I will always need you and want you." She brushed her hair back and secured it with a band. "I'm still throbbing."

He raised his eyebrow and grasped her by the forearm. "Then come with me. I'm not done with you yet."

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Kaith tried with limited success to concentrate on her textbook. She was too aware of the ache in her most private areas to be able to truly interest herself in the differences among the various types of broadswords and did not see that the distinctions would be of any great importance when actually coming into contact with the weapons. It was of more immediate concern to her whether she would be able to walk with her usual swinging stride or be reduced to a painful stagger when she stood to leave the classroom.

She was reassured of her place in his life although she had a bitter feeling the exact balance had changed. He had led her from his office to the cove they had so often visited during the leisure months. There he had taken her twice more with the same urgent roughness as on the desk. He seemed to be exorcising a demon rather than making love and, when at last he lay exhausted and panting on the grass, was disinclined for either conversation or caresses. She had looked at his naked body, not daring to touch him, seeing in the smoothness of the golden skin more of the shape of a mythic hero than a living man. In a strangely remote way, she felt herself to be the vessel of a god instead of a girl becoming woman. She knew no matter what he did or said she would be there when he demanded because she had become a part of an emerging legend.

She shook her head with disgust. Why did she think like this? Where was her dignity, her pride, her self-awareness? She had not been reared to think of herself as less than a male. Then the remembered image of him formed behind her closed eyelids and she knew even more compellingly that she was his and there was no escape. Her bruised nipples pressed against her shirt and she felt the excitement stirring between her legs again.

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Bent over his own work, compiling the plans for the training exercise for the second class, Nooj was also conscious of a change in his relationship with the external world. Vaguely, he was recognizing that he was engaged in the peeling away of those things which might hinder him as he started on his final journey to meet his fate. Without rational thought, he knew he must make that last pilgrimage alone without the comfort or interference of any other companion. He had managed to stay clear of the entanglements of friendship and camaraderie with the other cadets. Only Kaith and Nepetu had been admitted through the gates of his fortress. Now, even they could not be permitted to remain. His traitor body tied him to Kaith with her warmth and her softness which drew out the poison of physical desire. She seemed to understand how things must now be between them. It was not truly honorable and it was not how he would have wished it, given a choice. But it was all that was possible now.

He dropped his head into his hands and tried to stop the buzzing thoughts which filled his mind. His chest was near to bursting with the need to scream. It was all falling apart around him and he could not stop it. There was too much out of control, too many demands. Like an animal driven to madness by biting insects, he tossed restlessly from side to side, his long braids slapping his shoulders like so many whips. If he did what he was inclined to do, what he hungered to do, he would take his dagger and slip it up under his rib cage and find peace. But that was forbidden him.

His fingers tightened on the stylus until it shattered and the pieces scattered across the desk. The sharp crack of the breaking recalled him to himself and he wrestled with his demon until, gradually, he regained control and forced himself to turn his attention once more to the task before him. - Because of the natural attrition as cadets were injured, dropped out or were killed, the second class had only twenty-nine members. He would divide them ... how? His hand fell down and sought the soft fur of the coeurl as he concentrated.

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Jounne was not dissatisfied with the proposed training exercise for the second class. They would form three groups to be led by the most proficient amongst them and set out for the cavern inside the cleft to the far east of the Calm Lands. That cave was slated to be cleaned out within the next few months by a contingent of the army anyway so that a supply depot might be located in so strategic a position which meant the exercise would not only be good practice for the cadets but would actually be useful. Once inside the entrance, the various groups would separate and each explore a section of the complex, mapping and killing as they went. At a specified time, as kept by their respective leaders, the three groups were to reassemble at the gap and march back to the main camp. It was a good, practical plan with sufficient peril to test the mettle of the youths. He noted with amusement the instruction to map the terrain. That seemed to be a fixation with Nooj. It was true that mapping was one of the duties of the regular army and the cadets should practice the skill whenever possible, but Jounne suspected the emphasis on mapping had more to do with the mania Nooj had for knowledge and less with military matters. He closed the cover of the folder and rested his chin on his steepled fingers.

Pathel had mentioned Kaith had not been missing from her own bed lately and that the girl often had traces of tears on her cheeks when he checked the beds each night. The Commandant wondered if the liaison had come undone. It would be like Nooj to break off an affair rather than permit the existence of a lever to be used against him. Jounne could have slapped himself for trying that silly threat on someone like Nooj. He had compromised the parameters of the experiment. What would that troubled young man do with the energy Kaith had helped him expend?

He considered once again his action in removing the two pages from the Crusaders' Manual. Even though Nooj would be exposed to the information when he was inducted into the elite corps next year, it had seemed prudent to keep him from reading their official position on such matters now when he was so particularly susceptible. The lad did not need any more factors pushing him in the unhealthy direction he was so set upon. There were times when Jounne questioned his own decision to make so great an effort to keep the lad on the road toward a commission. He would become a soldier in any event. Was it really so important he be a Warrior? Sometimes, it hardly seemed worthwhile to spend so much time and effort on one cadet, no matter how promising. Then he recalled the results of the tests, the responses in the seminars and the sheer charisma Nooj exuded. The others would follow him whether they liked him or not. There was an idealism, a certainty which surrounded him and drew followers like a drug. No, he would be worth it if he could be kept obedient and sane.

With a sigh, he pushed up from his desk and prepared to meet his class on Subversive Attack Theory. There were only four students in the advanced section, one of whom was Nooj. It was usually invigorating to thrust and parry with the agile minds of these few but today Jounne wished he could avoid it . He had spent quite enough of his morning hunting hidden meanings in seemingly ordinary ideas.

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When the second year cadets reassembled at the opening of the gap in the eastern wall of the cliffs which surrounded the Calm Lands, it was a far less pristine crew than had gathered there a scant six hours before. Twenty-nine persons had marched into the dark opening behind them; twenty-seven had marched out under their own power. Two of the party, a male and a female, had be helped or carried from the site by their companions. The male was missing a part of an ear and half a hand; the female had a sizable chunk gone from her right thigh and had, consequently, left much of her blood behind in the shadowy galleries. The attendant Healers had done their best and the two injured ones would survive but only a more thorough examination back at camp would show whether their careers as Warriors-to-be were ended.

Nooj looked at the bedraggled troops with a cynical eye. That should satisfy Jounne. If the exercise had not been sufficiently risky to actually kill some of the cadets at least it had damaged a few. He ran his penetrating gaze over the ones still upright. There were minor injuries on many of them, bloodstains and bruises blackening against the pallor of the exposed skin. He directed stretchers be constructed from the available wood and any dispensable-with clothing so that the two severely wounded could be carried without too much further discomfort and, forming the ambulatory into as military a group as he could manage, led them back to the training camp and his own vindication.

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Late that same night, after being generously commended by Commandant Jounne for the excellence and the success of the training expedition, Nooj sat alone on the bed in his room. The door was firmly shut as were the windows and the curtains were drawn. There was not the slightest glimmer of light, only a velvety blackness which swathed and disembodied him. He could not tell without touching if his eyes were open or not. The darkness lay against them with an almost tangible sensation. He could feel the pressure of the hard mattress against his hips and thighs as well as the warm weight of the coeurl leaning on his feet. Otherwise, he was only a mind, floating in a featureless ocean.

With deliberate decision, he placed his consciousness into a receptive mode and began to cut away those connections to life he had inadvertently permitted to grow up around the pure shining monument of his purpose. He was finally sufficiently mature to choose between those indulgences which were necessary to him and those which served only to provide comfort and pleasure which he now recognized as weaknesses. The latter he mercilessly pruned away and discarded. Tears ran down his face but he was not weeping. Some part of him was dying as a result of the autotomy but it was not a part he recognized. The Nooj who would emerge from this would be purer and stronger, one divorced from tenderness and primed to move toward his destiny like a lodestone turning to the north. He felt the subliminal shifting within his awareness, the hardening of what had been tender and felt satisfied. The time was coming and he must be ready.

Oct 1, 20055181299


	4. Chapter 4

This is the last of the series detailing the youth of Nooj. The next story will take him into the Crusader Corps. From now on, his actions and words will be those of a man. One grows up rapidly on Spira.

**Part Four**

_The battlefield was a confused kaleidoscope of swirling figures, weaving tentacles, glittering blades, flashing teeth under a sky in which the ominous clouds were formed not of water droplets but of the spray of blood and smoke of burning flesh. The coppery reek of gore mixed with the stench of voided bowels to create a nearly unbreathable miasma and the footing underneath was boggy with spilled bodily fluids._

_Nooj, his muscles screaming with exhaustion, fought on. His two-handed sword swung like a mechanical blade as he stood on a small plateau in the midst of the melee. He did not notice when a fire spell ran down his left arm and took the flesh leaving only a bare humerus and stringy charred tendons. His eyes fogged by the acrid drifting haze, he continued to slice through a clot of fiends which showed no signs of dissolving. It was only when the sword fell from his nerveless fingers that he drew his dagger and began calmly carving patterns into the shapes which came within his reach._

_A sharp thong wrapped around his left leg just above the knee, severing the leg and felling him to the ground but he was undeterred. The head of the grotesque animal he saw in front of him became the face of a grimacing man. With exactitude and precision, he scalloped eyelids and lips, drawing strength from the cries of those he tormented unto death. He smiled as he slowly killed and slowly died._

/\\\\\\\\\

With a sharp, quick cry, Nooj started upright in his bed, flailing out at the touch which had awakened him.

"It's all right. You were talking and cursing in your sleep." Kaith caught his wrist before he could hit her. "I was on my way from the toilet and heard you."

He swayed his head from side to side in a confused effort to make sense of her words. "I was talking?" At the same time, he freed his hand from her grasp and checked his left side. "I was dreaming. Second time I've had that dream."

"What was it about?" She stroked the damp hair off his brow and spoke softly, so as not to disturb the other cadets asleep in the large room outside his door.

"Nothing important, just a bad dream. They don't come often ..." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and groped for his sleeping shirt which he rarely wore now that he had privacy in the night. "Come with me."

"Where? Oh!" She exclaimed as his touch made clear what his intentions were. "To our cove?"

"Yes. Are you willing?"

"I told you there was no need to ask." Kaith took his hand and wound her fingers with his. Together, they slipped out the two doors between them and the open air.

Nooj breathed deeply as the horror of the dream began to pass away. He had lied to her. The dreams were becoming more frequent with details added constantly. Tonight was the first time he had watched himself kill with deliberate slowness and sadistic intent. He felt as though a barrier had fallen. He had grown accustomed to seeing himself mutilated and dying whilst honorably slaying the foe but this ... This was beyond his levels of acceptance. That might be why he had cried out in his sleep loudly enough to be heard by Kaith. When they had passed through the dormitory, no one else seemed awake but he must try to forestall this happening again. It would not do for the Senior Cadet Captain to be heard wailing like an infant because of a bad dream. There many thoughts he must consider but first he would heal his damaged soul in the soothing arms of Kaith and try to find some form of peace. This year was proving to be more difficult than he had expected.

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Jounne was awake late. There were things on his mind as this year approached its close. He would be profoundly relieved when he was rid of the constant burr Nooj had become. Had he it to do over, he would have sent the boy to the regular Army boot camp early the first year. By now, he would almost certainly have been dead and no longer a question mark for his instructors. The Commandant knew he had been heavily influenced by the need for gifted Warriors to hold Sin at bay until a Summoner was readied to make the Pilgrimage and bring about a new Calm. This incarnation of Sin had been particularly destructive and the courageous, innovative leaders of all the branches of the forces had been decimated. New and exceptional officers were urgently required. This was one of the reasons the senior staff had been willing to try so hard to salvage Nooj. Now he would be commissioned in a matter of two months and would be the problem of the Crusaders. Jounne smiled grimly and thought they might want to rewrite certain portions of their Manual once they had gotten a taste of Nooj.

He opened his lowest desk drawer and pulled out the folder which held the pages he had removed from the library's copy of the Crusader Manual. They had come from the section entitled "Our Mission and its Meaning" and dealt with death. Jounne had long felt the Crusaders espoused a romantic and impractical attitude toward heroism and when he had learned Nooj was Deathseeker, the words in this part of the Manual had returned to his memory with a startling impact. 'Death is an expected and desirable part of the life of a Warrior. We seek Death in the heat of battle and embrace it like a lover when it comes to us. Crusaders, as the most Elite of Warriors, do not fear extinction for we know our names will live after us in the annals of the Corps.' This unambiguous statement was followed by another page and a half of stories extolling the honorable deaths of celebrated Crusaders in execrable prose dripping with adjectives. The Commandant thought it was the most irresponsible text that could have been written and could only imagine the effect such drivel would have on impressionable young people, especially one like Nooj who had already pledged himself to the nihilistic principle here expressed. So he had removed the pages, hoping to be able to sway the lad from his convictions before he graduated. Now Jounne sighed in frustration. He might as well have left the Manual intact. Once again, he had misunderstood the inflexible will of his student. It was beyond stubbornness and demonstrated a resistance to persuasion which would have been laudable had it not served such a deplorable purpose.

Well, it was too late now. Jounne had observed with some dismay that Nooj had become steadily more distant and unreachable as the year passed. Only Nepetu remained as a token of his brief flowering in the world of social contact. The Commandant did not dare comment on the coeurl any longer for fear that would cause the young man to sever this final tie. A fine thing indeed when a superior officer was hesitant to correct a junior because the latter might interpret the criticism too exactly. Yes, he would be glad to see the end of this year and the commissioning of this departing group. There were only thirteen left, not a bad result after all the winnowing they had experienced, and each of them would be a credit to the service he chose. Even Nooj ... or especially Nooj?

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The plan was clear and simple. Nooj proposed to lead the other twelve members of the graduating class to the north of the Calm Lands, down the steep pathway, toward the right on the lower level and into the narrow gap of a cave along the trail. There they would attempt to cleanse the area of indigenous fiends and recover the bones and weapons of the small contingent of Crusaders which had preceded them. It should be well within the capacity of a group of this size and prove the skill and courage of those who were to be commissioned within six weeks time. There was only one thing wrong with it.

"No, you cannot personally lead the team. You are the overall commander of the group and must stay behind the lines in order to deal with any emergencies or unforeseen eventualities. Your adjutant will lead. She is up to it, isn't she?" Jounne would brook no disagreement.

"Certainly, she is capable, but ..."

"There are no exceptions. You are in the position of the commander and ultimate authority and, as such, cannot be considered for an active role at the beginning. You have studied strategy; surely you know this?"

Nooj glared at his superior. "Yessir. I've read the manuals but since this is the final exercise, I thought ..."

"You were wrong. You will stay outside the field of exploration and be prepared to respond and command as the situation changes. Just like you have done in the other two training exercises. This one is no different. Relax, lad, you'll get your belly full of action in a couple of months." Jounne laughed indulgently as he waved his student out of the room.

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The tall slit of an opening looked like the eye of an ominous needle to Nooj as he concentrated on the empty area around the cave. Far behind him he could hear the distant shouts and clashing of swords as a few Crusaders participated in mock battles preparatory to setting out for their own struggles against Sin. He was alone in this place, except for Nepetu who paced alongside him, equally uneasy in his gait.

When he moved closer to the gap, he could hear a confused medley of sounds emerging but nothing which gave him any clue as to how his troops were faring in the mission he had set them. Kaith was the leader inside. She was skilled and more than competent for the task - however she was inexperienced in such a position and he wished it were he giving the orders. It had been almost two hours. In all honesty he knew he had a long time yet to wait; the knowledge did not make the waiting easier.

Time passed and he spotted Jounne, Marant and Dvala coming down the path to grade the students who must shortly be emerging. He saluted the members of the senior staff and turned his attention once more to the exit from the arena. He could just make out indistinct figures moving within the dimness. They were returning. Yaamone, the strongest of the group was carrying something. One of the team must have been injured.

He did not know how he was expected to react; he no longer had any instincts to cue him. The body had been laid before him, at his feet. Her face had not been touched but the chest was shattered. One breast had been torn away together with the heart and a great hole gaped where the ribs had been crushed and destroyed. The tell-tale signs of a thunder attack marked the edges of the bloodless wound; the blow that killed had also cauterized. The great cat, Nepetu approached the corpse and sniffed hesitantly before mewling and laying its head across what remained and snarling at any who came near.

Nooj could not force his mind to recognize her. With no life flickering behind her features, she was not the woman he had known. The whispers assaulting his ears carried no information he could process. When a hand touched his arm, he did not feel it and so did not respond.

How long he stayed frozen like that, he never knew, but – like a man caught in the calm center of a great upheaval – slowly he felt his senses began to return in a flawed and distorted form.

"Kaith." Did he say it or did he hear it from the lips of another? Then the turmoil broke about him, like a clash of drums beating and pipes wailing. She was dead and there was no mending of it. No Phoenix Down could rewind this thread. She was dead.

Still he did not know what he was expected to do, how they thought he should behave. Should he copy Nepetu? That did not seem quite right. He was a man, not a beast. None of his limbs were responsive even had his mind been capable of directing them. Nothing was working. Not his tongue, not his eyes. He could not close his lids not shape a sound. If he could have permitted himself the weakness, he would have escaped into darkness but that his pride denied him.

Then he was talking to Jounne in a place apart and Jounne was nodding and patting him on the back. Then another approached and nodded at his words. Various cadets, straggling by dispiritedly singly and in pairs, spoke to him and he nodded in his turn. He was walking and seemed to have a destination but he could not think or know where he was bound.

Nepetu had come to his call and stalked beside him, looking up at him with what in a higher animal would have been perceived as worry. Then they were alone on the plains of the Calm Lands, moving like a pair of automatons through the descending shadowy light/not light. And he could neither weep nor feel.

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Nooj had removed his shirt and his boots and stood there, clad only in his breeches, before the two men he had asked to meet with him in the Armory. The Head Trainer, Henta, loomed in the dim light, his arms crossed, the usual scowl on his heavy features. Commandant Jounne looked quizzically at the cadet. "We are here, lad. What is the problem?"

The young man handed the five thonged whip to Henta before turning to face his superior. "I want you to witness, sir, while Henta punishes me for my criminal carelessness today." He began to unbutton his breeches.

"You are not in line for punishment. You laid out a training exercise and saw it carried through. Deaths happen in the course of learning to be a Warrior; we have talked about this before. You didn't do anything wrong." Jounne reached to touch the other's shoulder.

"I lost a life due to my poor planning. This is twice I have done that. I know what I deserve." He stepped out of his clothing and stretched himself across the flogging horse. "You don't need to strap my wrists. I won't move." He had grown so tall, his hands almost reached the floor on the far side of the framework. "I suggest at least fifteen lashes but the final count is up to you."

"Don't be a fool, Nooj. I am not going to have you thrashed for an accident. Don't you think I know how you feel?"

"How I feel? Don't you understand? I can't feel and I've got to!" The words came spurting out as if a pus-filled sac had been lanced. "If physical pain is all there is, that's what it's got to be. And don't try to let me off lightly. I've got to feel something!"

The two senior officers looked at the pale shivering form stretched over the device, consternation on their features. A reluctant grimace distorting his face, Jounne nodded to the Trainer. Henta drew back his arm.

When it was done and the bleeding back had been roughly cleansed, Nooj resumed his garments and saluted both officers. He swayed as he stood painfully at attention, his face like that of Death itself. But some of the terrible bleakness was gone and he seemed less like a string tightened and vibrating to the point of breaking.

"Thank you, sirs. May I be dismissed?"

"Yes. Go directly to your room and remain there until the morning." The Commandant could think of nothing else to do to protect the young man from the unwelcome commiseration of his peers. Looking into the youth's eyes, he understood all too well the reasons for the extraordinary actions and could no longer fault the choice. "Tomorrow, you will resume your duties and you will not discuss this with anyone."

The two older men watched as the younger made his way through the door into the quadrangle, the seeping blood making a pattern of stripes and blotches on his shirt like grotesque camouflage.

"Poor devil." Henta said with feeling. "He's having a bad time of it."

"It's by choice," Jounne replied almost absently. "He won't let himself take a easy route. I don't think he is going to last long in the Crusaders ... or anywhere else. We'll be putting his name on the Honor Roll fairly soon. ... Well, let's go. I have to be available if any of the others need to talk."

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Time passed, as is its indifferent habit, and Nooj continued to carry out his prescribed duties as Senior Cadet Captain. His behavior was impeccable which gained him even greater adulation from his fellow students. The hollowness inside him remained concealed and private while those around him wondered at his strength. He moved with grace and dignity through the performance of his role and did that which was required of him.

As the date for the awarding of commissions neared, he realized he must finish the final task, the one he had postponed for so long. With only one day to go, he set out toward the far north of the Calm Lands with Nepetu at his side. The sun was lowering in the sky when they reached the empty plains; Nooj began to run, the coeurl pacing him. They ran past the man's exhaustion limit, until he fell almost senseless to the ground where the pair huddled together sharing warmth and breath and fell asleep for a time under the veiled moons and the stars.

Upon awakening to a sky in which scuttling clouds presaged the approach of a system of turbulent weather, the two companions crossed the bridge which led across the lower level where Kaith had met her death. Nooj did not look down, keeping his vision fixed on the narrow defile which marked the entrance to the icy land of the Ronso, that race of humanoid felines which dwelt on the lower reaches of Mount Gagazet.

Nepetu was reluctant to pass the bridge but, loyal as always, followed his master's lead. Unlike the human, he could bear to remember the woman and her gentle ways. In his own manner, he recalled and grieved.

At the point where the path narrowed and the first light powdering of snow drifted gently across the browning grass, Nooj pointed to a niche protected from the whip of the wind and spoke his first word since leaving camp the night before. "Stay."

Nepetu lowered himself, stretching his legs out in front and waited for further orders only to see his human turn and begin to walk away. He growled and spat angrily. This was not right. The coeurl was confused. Never before had its master abandoned it. With a little mewing sound, it lowered its head to the forelimbs and let the proud whiskers droop until they became one with the dried grasses.

Nooj turned his back and stood immobile for a long moment, his fists clenched at his sides. This was his last tie to life, the last hostage fate would have from him. Had he been still emotionally intact, he would not have been able to do this. He was sufficiently aware of his condition to be briefly grateful he was still held in the peculiar paralysis which had afflicted him since he had seen her broken body at his feet. Without a glance back, he took first one step, then another until he was finally striding with great ground-devouring paces back toward the Camp.

The light was beginning to show behind the horizon and the day promised to be stormily overcast, a fit reflection of his mood. The ceremonies would have to be held inside. Were it not for the fact his absence would be remarked upon and might be considered the act of a coward, Nooj would have skipped the procedures and reported directly to the Crusaders' headquarters. However wishing to preserve what remained of the person he had been, he steeled himself to walk with a martial swagger into the Camp and towards the barracks. There was a sudden silence as he opened the door. The cadets, changing into their dress uniforms, paused and stared at the tall figure of their Captain. Nooj, as had become his habit, glanced toward the bunk where Kaith had slept. It was undisturbed, the single blanket drawn tightly over the padding. Something within him throbbed once then vanished, leaving a vacancy in its place. He felt a different awareness gathering there as though all his forces were marshaling themselves for a battle to come, for the long anticipated entrance into Nothingness. He went inside his room and closed the door behind him.

Oct 7, 200551812910


End file.
